


what is dead may never die

by bedeliarara



Series: Regular Nights with Baptan [1]
Category: B.A.P, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: M/M, Necromancy, Witchcraft, b.a.p is a coven, bts is not, coven - Freeform, namjoon is mage here, there's a slight bit of gore but it's barely noticable, this will be a 3 part story i hope
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2018-10-28 09:45:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10828734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bedeliarara/pseuds/bedeliarara
Summary: When a drunk driver of a track lost control of the wheel and swerve out of his lane, it changed the lives of these young men forever. A car crash took the life of BTS's manager and their youngest member. Yoongi thought that his life is over. The truck split in two and the tail almost took the life of another group of men who shared the same route as them. But b.a.p walked away with their youngest alive, with all of them alive...How lucky.Yoongi thought.Too lucky, almost like magic... isn't it?





	1. Resurrection

Yoongi's tear-ducts had probably dried from tears, he didn't know a person could feel this... empty? His heart ablaze with grief and fury, and while he is lost in anger over the death of a beloved friend, he was also very exhausted. Is the anger worth it? Will his screaming and crying bring their baby back? 

He can't do it, he sat the phone down and dread going back inside where his bandmates are waiting for him. They're all expecting good news from Jungkook's surgery, how is he supposed to... is there even a way to break a news like this to people? Yoongi leans back against the corridor of the hospital, his knees are weak, barely holding him up. The air smells so… clean here, like alcohol mixed with medicine, the halls are probably mopped more times in a day than their dorm in a month. It feels so cold, so foreign, no ounce and no trace of comfort, and to think that Jungkook’s last moment… he didn’t even get to say goodbye, Jungkook didn’t get to say goodbye too, he didn’t—they didn’t—

“Yoongi…” A sweet voice, a warm voice, caring, and usually very playful, now Seokjin’s voice is somber as he walks out of the room where Taehyun and Namjoon are laying, still unconscious, Jimin next to them, awake, but hooked up to the IV and barely able to focus. Yoongi himself shouldn’t be walking around yet, there’s a tight wrapping around his left limbs, where the glasses shattered from the crash and rained deep onto his skin, his arm is fine, but there was a deep gash on his calf that made it hard for him to walk. Seokjin, who was sitting at the very back with Hoseok, was the only two who didn’t get any serious injury. Their manager died on site after the brutal collision, Yoongi was supposed to sit at the very front like he always does, but Jungkook had begged him for his spot for no reason, Jungkook always do that, there’s no real reason why he wants to, he just like to tease his hyung, and Yoongi was tired, and feeling soft, so he just laugh it out with the younger while Jungkook smugly sat at the very front.

It should’ve been him.

The one that got hit first by the truck should’ve been him, Jungkook should’ve been save in the back, sitting next to Taehyung, shielded by Yoongi’s body, he should’ve been the one too, he should’ve—

“They called me too…” Seokjin said, leaning on the wall next to Yoongi, his eyes fixed on the younger. “They told me…”

Yoongi stops him by abruptly standing up. “They’re wrong.”

“Yoongi…” Yoongi made a big fuss about being kept in bed, he wanted to wait outside of Jungkook’s operating room, he wanted to make sure the boy is okay. The nurses cut him a deal, he can walk with a cane and move onto Jungkook’s room after he got out of surgery, but not before. They probably wanted to ease his pain, it has been five hours since Jungkook was rushed inside, and if he had waited that long, only to hear that news…

 

“I need to see him.” Is that even possible? Where is he now? Yoongi lean onto his cane and limp away to the elevator, Seokjin, and two nurses quickly stand up from their post and holds his arm. ‘Min Yoongi-ssi, your legs are badly hurt…’ They tried talking sense into him, Jin joined in too, talking- begging him to come back, but Yoongi is adamant. Fuck his leg, fuck his arm, fuck his whole being, let him bleed, let him bleed to death on his way to see the kiddo, their youngest, the reality hasn’t hit, the tears haven’t come, but Yoongi already feels the dread. If Jungkook died, he wants to come with. If Jungkook left, _he wants to come with._

“Let go.” His voice is low, tired, raspy, blood lost and exhaustion, paired with adrenaline that came with his new resolve of coming with Jungkook, and his anger, his pain, his regret. All of that balled into one. He wants to leave. Let him go. Let him go. Let. Him. Go—

 

The elevator opens.

The dimly lit hall is bathed in the orange glow of the elevator, the nurses wasn’t fazed, but Yoongi looks up, he could feel someone watching him.

Bang Yongguk blinked as he saw the group only a few meters from him, Youngjae, who is still (quietly) chatting in his wheelchair despite looking like he’s seconds away from passing out, had stopped talking to see the object of his hyung’s attention.

 

“Why are you here…?” Yoongi said before he could control his mouth, he’s not that friendly with Yongguk, hell, he only saw him a few times, but he respects the man, he knows of what he does, and in this industry, sometimes that’s the only thing that you need to know about someone. Despite knowing that he’s being rude, Seokjin is actually thankful, because Yoongi is struggling less, and is now standing still, awaiting the answer of the man who’s walking slowly, wheeling in his friend who seems to be suffering from a concussion, the bandage on his head and legs implying that it would be too dangerous for him to walk alone, hence the wheelchair.

“Yoongi… you didn’t know? Our car, and the broken body of the truck glided onto traffic, and we hit two more cars…”

Oh… right, where were they anyway? It was a music concert, right? Yeah… it’s coming back to him now, they just finished the year end Winter Dream Concert… there was… a few other cars rolling out with them, he didn’t know which group, just that they were going to the same route back to the city… Did they—fuck, did they-

 

“No.”

The voice didn’t come from Seokjin, it’s… another person’s voice, foreign, yet weirdly familiar, it’s odd how one can run across someone else in their workplace, sing and dance and share only a few meters of changing rooms apart, and yet never talk to each other. It was Youngjae, the man who’s sitting on the wheelchair. “Your van hit another truck in the back, the driver of that truck is fine, your van managed to push it out of its lane but it stayed intact. We unfortunately was on that lane, we already saw the crash and managed to stop before the collision, I was sitting in the front and… well, I got the worst of it, but you can see that I’m fine.” He gestured towards his bandages, but moves his arms and wiggles his legs as if to reassure the other.

Yoongi doesn’t know what to do with the information, did they hit anyone else? What happened to the rest of B.A.P? What—where-

 

“Junhong is with your dancer downstairs.” The deep voice said, Yongguk. ‘Hoseok’, Youngjae had whispered, it’s nothing personal, Yongguk is just bad with names. “We heard what happened, I’m sorry for your loss.” Yongguk continued, earning an agreeing nod from Youngjae. Yoongi watch as Yongguk continue to wheel Youngjae away, probably to his hospital room, no one else… the others must be lucky enough to not suffer any wounds.

So lucky.

So damn lucky.

But what about his kid? His friend? What about _their_ youngest? He’s dead now. He’s fucking dead now…

 

\---

 

They had to sedate him. After ten minutes of Yoongi struggling in angry whispers, the man tried to make a run for it, and of course, he fell to the ground, right on his bruised knee, his screams must’ve scared some other patients, but that’s not the whole point, the point is now Yoongi is sedated, eventually going to a medicine induced sleep, and even when his eyes are closed, they still got wet with tears.

Yongguk wasn’t lying, when Jin silently approaches the ICU, he could see Hoseok sitting on one of those long hospital chairs, next to him is Junhong, he has blood staining his shirt, but it looks dried and didn’t matched his still unscarred skin, that must be Youngjae’s blood, he thought, the boy must’ve carried his hyung from the debris, being the biggest and all, he must’ve been so scared…

Because their families still haven’t arrived, Jin concluded Junhong thinks he should be there for his friend, and Seokjin is thankful. Jin was less than qualified to comfort Hoseok back then, he was busy making sure all his dongsaengs got the same room and Yoongi got his legs tended, Hoseok and him was unscratched, so he pretty much ignored the man who was still silent from shock.

He realized Hoseok haven’t moved from his spot since they left him in the flurry of panic. He waited there… six hours, probably alone, only to be told that Jungkook didn’t make it.

 

“Seokjin-ssi…” This Junhong boy is polite, Jin had never talked to him before but…

Jin only nod his head, still too out of it to say anything, he just took Junhong’s space next to Hoseok as the boy nods back and slowly left them alone to share a private moment. Junhong could hear footsteps of nurses and doctors rushing from the emergency room as Jin screamed for help, Hoseok had collapsed in his arms, shocked overridden with grief, his body might be spared from the crash, but his mind surely isn’t.

 

\---

 

The next morning, Youngjae’s Instagram is flooded with mentions not just from their fans, but also BTS’s fans, knowing that they’re in the same car crash together. B.A.P’s fans were more than relieved, some of them confessing in the comment section that they couldn’t stop crying when they heard Youngjae was seen rescued from the scene a bleeding a mess.  Junhong _did_ pull Youngjae out from under their car, their manager got a few cuts too, but it has been stitched and he’s recovering nicely.

Daehyun had first taken a pic of Youngjae, still a bit sleepy from the painkillers, making a peace sign towards the camera with a reassuring caption, ‘thank you for your prayers, oppa is recovering well’. Then Daehyun asked the nurse to take a picture of the six of them, some eating, some just finished showering, wearing the clothes Himchan bought just this morning just to change from their previous dirtied attire (they have to throw Zelo’s clothes in the trash), with an uplifting caption, thanking their friends, fans, and families for the prayers and support.

All in all, they were very consoling posts, they are fine, they are recovering.

 

A stark difference from the media silence of BTS.

Just a few doors away from them. Seokjin and Hoseok is finally sleeping, the other four is still resting on the other room, Jimin had tried to talk a few times, but the headache was too much so they had to sedate him again, Yoongi, now weak from the lack of adrenaline, had refused to talk to anyone, not even the police who had come in and out of the hospital, waiting for the victims to the stable enough to talk, while Jungkook stubbornly made a point that he only wants to move when he’s allowed to visit Jungkook.

That is not possible yet, he’s still too weak, and Jungkook’s family just arrived, they have consented to an autopsy , of course, they wanted to see the damage done to their beloved, they wanted evidence for the police and the court, because of course there will be lawsuits, it will not bring their Jungkook back, but it can—do, _something_.

 

Yoongi haven’t seen his family in two years.

He never thought the first time he saw them again, he would see his father crying over him.

 

\---

 

When to tell? How to tell?

Those questions are not just for their company to think about, miraculously, it’s been a full day since Jungkook’s… official death, and yet no news had leaked out, maybe when it comes to something as tragic as deaths, even the most unchecked mouths of people will stay shut, because none of the hospital staff had said anything to the press who’s practically camping outside of the hospital’s parking lot (they were waiting in the lobby, but after being ushered away by the police and threatened with legal actions, they finally decide to camp right outside of the hospital’s building).

Those questions are aimed towards Yoongi, Seokjin, and Hoseok too. When to tell. How to tell.

 

Insisting on rest and silence, the hospital had reminded their family countless of times to please try and keep it down inside the room, they probably had been instructed to watch what they say, because Hoseok is particularly fragile, he had been crying nonstop, and the IV can only do so much if he keeps exhausting his body like that. Yoongi had been silent for the whole day, not even his parents can get him to talk, he just continues to stare at his hand, yesterday’s conversation playing again and again in his head.

 

**_‘Hyung! You promised you’d let me ride on the front!’_ **

**_“No way kid, it’s a three hour drive back to the company, no way in hell I’m letting your spoiled ass—“_ **

**_“—Please?” Those fucking. Puppy eyes. Yoongi is weak for them and Jungkook knows that, looking at him with those eyes, when they’re still tired from performance, Yoongi still too sleepy to deal with Jungkook’s antics._ **

_Oh, alright._

He had said.

That one line that keeps haunting both his waking hours and his dreams.

‘Oh, alright.’ Two words.

And their kid is dead. He should’ve been the one there, sitting in the front seat, he should have died, together with their loyal best friend of a manager.

It should’ve been him.

It should have been Yoongi who died.

 

\---

 

The tiles seem to freeze the bottom of his feet, so cold, it feels like pinpricks onto his skin.

He has to hurry, only a couple more minutes till the nightguards will make their rounds again. Yoongi feels weird running around like this, he feels small, insignificant, like the elevator is swallowing him whole and he’s descending to hell rather than the basement.

Jungkook’s family had let it slipped than Jungkook’s autopsy is over, he had been moved from the morgue in the ground floor to the basement.

If he’s back in the city, he would’ve been caught right now, but this is a small hospital in the outskirts, near the highways that connects the cities together, outside the window, there’s not house in sight, just a few apartments and condos, constructions still buzzing even at 2 in the morning to finish according to time. This is a growing community, and their hospital is still small. It’s easy to know when the cameras are just being recorded and not watched. But it is nothing short but a miracle that Yoongi manage to sneak in like this. Walking in some hospital’s basement.

The sign simply said 009, there’s three more morgues down the line, he doesn’t know how they separate it, so he should just go room per room.

But… something is… **off.**

 _There’s no one here,_ he’s prepared to sneak his way inside, he got cash in his hand in case he needs to bribe someone, but—there’s just, simply no one in here.

The halls are lit with the rows of neon white lights, his footsteps seem disgustingly loud as it echoes through the hall. There’s no breeze, but he feels oh so cold, the air conditioning is brutal, he walks through what seems to be the embalmment room, and it is locked, as he peeks inside from the small window on the door, he hopes Jungkook is no longer inside. The thought of the younger… cold and alone, he couldn’t stomach it, who cares if he’s dead? He’d still give him his jacket, it’s the least he can do.

He moves to the first room of the morgue, and almost gagged at the smell. It’s a thick blend of something akin to ammonia, alcohol, and rotting meat, but at the same time managed to smell so clinically ‘clean’. It stings his eyes, and he couldn’t help the tears that falls down his cheek, every breath is nauseating, pinpricks under his nose that makes his lips tingle.

Slowly, Yoongi stumbled onto the logs placed neatly on the table, since he would rather not check the labels in the shelf fridge container one by one, he blinks when he saw that a lot of these people have the same name, the equivalent of John Doe’s. These are victims that are yet to be identified. So, no. Jungkook is… not here. There’s a weird sense of relief in his heart. Which is stupid, just because Jungkook is not in _this_ morgue, does not mean he’s not dead. He is, laying inside a shelf somewhere, face covered, body cold…

As he slowly drags his feet out of that room, the chill seems to drag on his skin, piercing his body like tiny frozen needles, it couldn’t be… this cold, right? Is it supposed to be this cold? He had never been in this part of a hospital so—

_BANG!_

The door behind him closed like it’s someone purposely slams it with a vengeance, Yoongi shrieked, stumbling in his feet and turning back to see who or- what, caused that, but there’s—no one. There’s no one.

 

His heart beats like it’s trying to escape his chest, his breathing turns heavy, like he just ran a marathon, Yoongi turns around, about to make a run to the elevator when—wait- wait why is the elevator chamber moving up? The door opened and closed, and he drag his suddenly fatigued feet to try and catch up- but he can’t- he just—he feels weak, so weak…

The neon lights flickered, and no matter how many times he pushes the down button of the elevator, the indicator only lights up to the floors above. Ground floor, 1st, 2nd, 3rd…

“You weren’t supposed to be here…”

Yoongi froze. His eyes blinking, he knows that voice. But does he want to turn around?

“What did you see?” Now the voice is paired with footsteps. “Yoongi-ssii…” Yoongi freezes, as Junhong’s large hand settle on his shoulders, keeping him upright as he knees threatened to give out.

 

\---

 

Yoongi doesn’t know how… how he manages to find himself in this situation, but here he is, with Junhong’s hand on his back, holding him up like a husband would his bride, walking down to the end of the hall. Room 007, the last morgue.

The door opens at Junhong’s will, without even a touch of his finger, Yoongi feels… aloof, he feels too weak to move, too tired to think. “Daehyun, enough.” Another voice said, but this time it’s lower, harsher, Yoongi recognize that bright red tuff of hair, Himchan… is it?

Himchan is standing next to the door, next to him is another man, shorter, a few plasters on his face to cover the tiny scars left there probably by the crash. “Stop draining him, he’s not running away any time soon.” Himchan tried to reason with him, Daehyun’s eyes are unreadable, as he stares down the man in Junhong’s arms.

Yoongi doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath, but as soon as Daehyun walks away, Yoongi felt something in his body being freed, and the man gasped for air. Junhong slowly sat him down on a chair, and with his new renewed energy, he looks up to see—Jungkook.

 

“It will be wiser to erase his memory, or knock him out.” Daehyun said, his hand resting on the metal slab where Jungkook’s lifeless body lays.

The surreal scene boggles Yoongi’s mind. In that room, there’s a total of six people, Himchan by the door, Junhong behind him, hand still on his shoulder, to keep him upright or to keep him in place, he isn’t sure. Then there’s Daehyun, looking down at Jungkook’s body, and then next to that body is… Yongguk…?

“Daehyun… relax, it’s going to be okay, he won’t tell—“

“You’re the one who said we cannot trust strangers, Channie… **He** is a stranger.” Daehyun’s words hits the still shocked Yoongi, he suddenly felt like an intruder, and it feels more than just intruding on a group, being surrounded by this people… the bond they have so thick in the air, Yoongi could feel it. “I trust him.” Junhong said, albeit softly.

“He’s NOT part of our coven.” Daehyun said again, Yoongi thought he’s supposed to be the quiet one…

Wait. A coven?

“He might not belong in a coven, but he belongs in a group, and this… whole situation, involves said group.” Right… wait—right! His group! His Jungkookie! As if on cue, Yoongi tries to stand up, breath hitching in his throat when he realized that this… this is his kookie right here, Yongguk is still hovering over the body, pulling away the cloth that covers his face. And—and there he is.

 

Jungkook’s face is left unscathed, but there’s a thick, neat line on his neck, stitching the skin closed together, something from the crash must have pierced his neck… Then Yoongi’s eyes look down, there’s a Y shaped stitches from his pervious autopsy, but that’s not the one what caught Yoongi’s eyes. His body, despite already turning a bluish grey, have dozens of bruises littering it, then, the skin are pulled and stitched together over the various puncture wounds on his stomach and chest.

Wow… he really didn’t have a chance.

 

“We wanted to wait.” Yongguk’s voice startled Yoongi out of his trance, making the man look up out of reflex. “For Namjoon-ssi to wake up and take care of this himself.” Yoongi doesn’t know what he’s talking about, but now Yongguk’s hand is on Jungkook’s stomach, patting it lightly, as if he’s comforting the boy. Is he… gesturing towards Jungkook? Take care of—what’s there to take care of? How is _Namjoon_ going to take care of their _dead_ baby?

“We wanted to wait… but it’s only been a day and his family already cut him up.”

“Autopsy.” Himchan said.

“—Autopsy, whatever, they already cut up his body. I… am personally against that, it’s disrespectful to the dead, no matter what the reason is.” Yongguk continue, he could hear Himchan sighing softly, Yongguk is a spiritual soul, any other day Himchan would argue with him that autopsy is needed, but not now, not today. “And… the press is starting to speculate, the police wanted to… conduct their own autopsy and… Well, we just can’t let this go on, if the news become widespread, there’s nothing we can do for you then.”

 _You._ Now Yongguk addressed him personally. Yoongi gasped as he feels his body moving on its own, forcing him to look up at the leader, only for a second though, because Yongguk is quick on gripping Daehyun’s hand, forcing him to let go of his control over Yoongi.  

As a blood mage, it’s easy for Daehyun to fight back, but he would never do that, never to Yongguk.

 

Yoongi was about to say something else, when Yongguk press his finger to his own lips, signaling for Yoongi to be quiet. “Just watch.”

The older man withdraws his hand, and Daehyun handed him the scalpel.

Yoongi panicked, he wanted to move, to say—say anything, but he can’t- he CAN’T! He is terrified that Yongguk would mutilate his Jungkook even more but—he seems to be mistaken. Because rather than hurting Jungkook, Yongguk, instead, hurts himself.

 

A deep cut is made across his wrist, and the blood pours out of it like water, thick droplets rain down quick until they became a steady stream of red. Yongguk’s other hand cups Jungkook’s cheek, and with his thumb, he opens the boy’s rigid mouth. Yoongi screamed on the inside as Yongguk filled the mouth of his beloved dongsaeng with red, red, and more red. Blood drips from the corner of Jungkook’s mouth, overflowing.

 

One minute,

Two.

 

“Ah—“

A forced gulp, then a gasp, then Jungkook’s back arched up from the bed, his closed eyes force itself open, and the boy takes the longest, deepest breath he had ever taken in his life.

 

 

 

 

Yoongi opened his eyes to the sound of Taehyung crying.

His choked breath coupled with his teary wheezes are comforted by Jimin’s soft voice, Yoongi groans as the light hurt his eyes, covering his face with his hand. Taehyun gasped, standing from his sofa and quickly coming to his side, Yoongi feels his cheeks cupped, and a kiss pressed to his nose. “You’re awake!” Taehyung cried out, pressing the call button for a nurse. “Are—are you okay? You passed out in the bathroom, your- your leg was bleeding again, and—and there were so much blood and you have been out for the whole day and—and—“ Taehyung broke down again, hugging Yoongi, while Jimin kept rubbing his back. Jimin also offered him a smile, mouthing words that means he’s so glad that he’s awake.

“I- I thought you were _never_ gonna wake up…” Taehyung confessed, he’s being rather dramatic, but who can blame him really? After the crash and everything…

Wait.

Where was he anyway?

Why was he in the bathroom?

 

“Don’t worry about him, hyung…” Jimin said, Taehyung’s mother had come in to comfort the crying boy, bringing him to his own bed so he could cry it out there in the safety of his mother’s hold. “He’s just so shaken up, you were bleeding so bad, and he… found you, right after he woke up.” Jimin recalled how they woke up, Namjoon was already gone, wheeled away for another examination, Jin and Hoseok busy talking with their parents. “We were so worried, we thought you would be needing another surgery, Taehyung was already devastated about Jungkook—“

Oh.

Oh right…

Jungkook…

Wait—wait he didn’t go to the bathroom last night. He went to-

“—Who is in his second surgery right now, the doctors are positive of his recovery, but then again, we haven’t had any idea if he would even be able to walk after-“

“Surgery?”

Jungkook is in surgery?

 

\---

 

Is he in some kind of twilight zone right now?

Here he was, sitting in his bed while a nurse is changing his bandage, thanking her softly when she’s done, letting Jin help him put his pants back on. The room is quiet, with the kids on the other room, Yoongi is left with only Seokjin and Hoseok. It just feels… unreal.

“He… he died…” It can’t be just a fever dream, it’s so real, he knows it’s real.

In Hoseok and Seokjin’s lack of shock, he knows the answer, they just look solemn, looking down. “He _did_ die, did he? Right? Hoseok you—you were there, Jin, you had that phone call too?” Right? He’s not going crazy… right?

 

“When we… found you in the bathroom.” Hoseok is the one to speak, his voice low and tired, it’s so weird to see him so devoid of life, to _hear_ it. “Minutes later, we heard something… weird. Seokjin got… a call, from Jungkook’s mother downstairs, saying that… that he… is alive.”

What.

“That’s… what?”

“We didn’t believe it at first.” Seokjin interjects. “What kind of nonsense… I know what I heard, I saw it with my own eyes, his parents already talked to me, hell—I comforted them. But… but there he was… barely awake, struggling to breath without an oxygen mask pressed on his face. Jungkook is—they wheeled him out for another surgery, and he still haven’t got out, but he’s… he’s… I don’t know, I don’t know Yoongi, I just- I just don’t know. Now they—they refused to even mentioned his ‘death’ to Jimin and Taehyung so they wouldn’t worry more than they have to… I don’t know… the doctors, the nurses, they’re acting so weird, I don’t even know if they understand what’s going on…”

 

Suddenly, he remembered something.

“Did you guys meet anyone from B.A.P this morning?”

“B.A.P… didn’t they check out yesterday? Why…?” Hoseok asked, he remembered Junhong saying goodbye, when Youngjae was strong enough to walk, their manager had rolled in a van on the other entrance of the hospital at dawn to pick them up. Then… who did he saw last night? Was it all just an elaborate dream?

He doesn’t know, he couldn’t think, he feels tired, nauseous to the core.

He was about to go back to sleep, try to think when the painkillers wear off a little, when suddenly the door of his room is slammed open. Taehyung stood there, his eyes are still teary, both big as saucers. “Jungkook—“

Oh no.

“Jungkook got out of surgery, he’s stable!”

Oh.

 

\---

 

Namjoon clutch his phone tight in his arm, he stands in front of an unused stall in the empty bathroom. “Thank you…” Namjoon murmured to the person on the other side of the line. “Thank you for… stepping in, if you had waited for me, it would’ve been too late…”

Back in the city, Yongguk is on his home, Youngjae is staying in his place to recover for a while since the dorm is always too hectic. ‘It’s fine.’ Yongguk said, pressing the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he prepares Youngjae’s water and medicine. ‘You would’ve done the same for me.’

 

“Still, you didn’t have to help, and yet you choose to—“

     ‘Namjoon.’

Yongguk’s voice is calm, yet authoritative. Namjoon paused. “…Yeah?”

     ‘Just because you’re not in my coven, doesn’t mean I would stop looking out for you.’

The words are… very heartfelt actually, he knows Yongguk is a kind man by nature, but they rarely ever talk, the kindness surprises him.  ‘We have to look out for each other.’ Yongguk added, and Namjoon nods, exactly, unlike Yongguk, who’s whole group is also in his coven, where they’re all mages, Namjoon is the only one in Bangtan with this… power, it’s his biggest kept secret. He looked down into his palm, if he wasn’t knocked out from the crash, he would’ve been the one to…

“It must have taken a lot out of you…” Namjoon understands the sacrifice that Yongguk made, because they suffer the same curse.

Necromancers, both of them.

And Namjoon was right, Yongguk already used his power on both Youngjae and their Manager during the crash, bringing back two people from the dead almost drained him as well, a crash like that? And the manager and Youngjae walked away with minimal damage? Sounds like magic. Well. The thing is Yongguk is trained well, and experienced, unlike his more… ‘human’ friend who was blessed the same. Yongguk had resurrected his brother since they were in the womb, when it would take Namjoon all of his energy and will to revive Jungkook, it only took Yongguk half an effort.

The younger’s sincerity made the older smile. How hard must it be to be the only one, there’s a reason why Youngjae was so insistent of bringing Jungkook back. He still remembered the younger’s words. _‘If there’s a reason why we were cursed… why... **you** were cursed, is to do something good with it for our own kind. He is **our** own.’_ He had referred to Namjoon. _‘How would **you** feel if you lost Junhong?’ _

 

Namjoon ended the phone call with another thank, as he limp out of the toilet, he stumbles into Jungkook’s room, now crowded with his family, Seokjin, Taehyung and Jimin who’s both hugging Yoongi’s arm to support their limping hyung.

On the bed Jungkook lay there, motionless, unconscious. His body… clean from cuts, bare, from any slash, except for the one made on his throat to assist his breathing.

“A miracle…” Seokjin had whispered.

 _No…_ Namjoon thinks. _It’s far from that._

 

-

 **_Necromancy_ ** _(/ˈnɛkrəˌmænsi,)_

_is a supposed practice of magic involving communication with the deceased – either by summoning their spirit as an apparition or raising them bodily – to bring someone back from the dead, with **black magic** or **witchcraft**._


	2. Vitalum Vitalis

This time his fingers reached for the raw slice of pork, cut thin and precise and well-seasoned, ready to be fried tomorrow morning by his mother. Jungkook hesitates for a second, this is stupid, he thinks, he should just… stop trying. But he wants to try.

Jungkook brought the raw food to his lips, they part slightly to let the slimy piece of meat inside, then, he chewed the rubbery textured flesh.

 

Nothing.

 

Tasteless. Just like everything else he had tried.

Annoyed, he swallowed the thing and look around the fridge, seasoning paste? Nothing. Raw green peppers? Not even a tinge. He tastes **nothing**.

He washes his hands and mouth and retreated back into his bedroom, careful not to wake anyone. The hell with this, what in the world is happening to him?

 

 

Roars of claps and screams fills the auditorium where they’re holding their first fan signing after the accidents, Jungkook still couldn’t move right and the way he waves back is awkward, but no one minded, as long as he still smiles with that sweetness. Jimin and Yoongi holds canes in their hands and wave with only one palm, concealer caked under their eyes and painkillers filled them up to the brim to deal with the pain. It’s no secret that they haven’t recovered fully yet, but the pressure is on from the fans whether they admit it or not, the media silence has got to stop, selfies alone aren’t enough, they’re so spoiled with love that when they’re deprived after such tragedy they need a **true** reassurance that everything is okay.

 

They don’t have to dance or sing. They CAN’T dance or sing, but they can sit down.

That’s good enough for their company, and for them. They sat down in order of age, Namjoon and Taehyung being the most talkative. Jin and Hoseok has been strangely… quieter the last few weeks, but the fans have jut that down as them still recovering from the accident. One by one the girls and boys pass the table with smiles and sometimes tears on their faces, they confess love again and again just to make sure they can say it before anything like that faithful night ever happen again.

A fan gave Jungkook some strawberry milk. He drank it and tastes nothing but wetness.

\---

Namjoon stares awake at his bedroom ceiling, trying to ignore the rumbling he hears from outside. He knows what the younger is doing, he’s not stupid, he knows these things have consequences. It’s 2 a.m and Jungkook is out in his pajamas, snacking on garlic and peppers and almonds just to feels _something_. The garlic gives him a tang, the peppers gives him tingles, and the almonds gives him texture. And the TV light up on mute in front of him? Is to occupy the head that couldn’t go to sleep.

At times, he feels like a zombie. Earlier, the tip of his thumb instead of the garlic he’s slicing, bleeding out of accident, and he felt no pain. His stylist noona kissed him in the hospital from relieve that he’s okay, hands palming his crotch, but he felt no pleasure. Two fan-signing and a check-up and he’s not even sleepy.

He doesn’t feel… anything. He doesn’t feel human.

\---

Namjoon bit his thumb, he has been pretending to read, being as quiet as possible as Jungkook stride in his pajamas and warm robe. He’s wearing all black now, it makes his already pale complexion looks stone white, there’s no hint of rosiness on his cheeks, and there’s a certain livelihood missing from those eyes…

He knows something is wrong.

Maybe Yongguk was exhausted, performing _Vitalum Vitalis_ for the third time. Maybe something went wrong.

Vitalum Vitalis is a spell that share’s one’s life force to another, and to imagine splitting oneself into three in one day… Namjoon can’t even think about it. He’s a necromancer, but Yongguk is a straight up master of the arts compared to him. But still, even masters make mistakes.

It’s been three weeks since the accident and Namjoon can feel the lack of life force from Jungkook, he’s not healing well, he’s not… turning whole again. There is a spell for this of course, he can perform Vitalum Vitalis to Jungkook again, but how? He cannot willingly do so without outing who and what he really is. But how can he leave their maknae just the way he is right now? And if Jungkook goes to the doctors, what then? He’ll be another medical mystery, they wouldn’t be able to help him one bit, only he can, well—he and any other necromancers. But really? How many necromancers does he know? Only Yongguk, and he’s not going to ask him for a favor when he’s already this exhausted.

Yongguk even took a leave from their comeback to recover, it’s been three weeks and his health is still bad, imagine having to ask for another favor? No. He thinks. No, he’s not going to ask for another favor, this is his own problem to fix.

 

\---

 

Namjoon, found himself staring at the brown eyes of Jungkook’s when the younger suddenly wakes. Their lips are inches apart, warmer than usual, Namjoon is pale looking even in the darkness of their bedroom, and there’s a strange fog between both of their parted mouth.

Namjoon thought the younger was asleep.

He was wrong.

 

The first thing Jungkook did was pull himself away like death itself was after him, scrambling to the corner as if Namjoon’s own presence offended him. “I knew it.” He hisses, wiping his lips. “I know someone had to had done something to me but—You, Hyung—I—“

The colour has officially left Namjoon’s face and he pulled back also, standing awkwardly at the foot of the bed, his neck seeping cold sweat. “Jungkook… you were-“

“Dead. I know that, I **_felt_** it, hyung, I felt—I felt…” he makes vague motions of stabbing around his chest and his neck, the one that punctured his lungs and fills them with blood in seconds, the one that went straight through his trachea, and the one that ripped through his abdomen, splitting his intestines. “But then I woke up and then there’s—nothing, nothing, not just that, my wounds are gone, my sensations, my tastes, my—I can’t even go to _sleep_ , hyung!” His hissing gets more intense despite being just as quiet, the rooms are not soundproofed.

“Hyung…” He rubs his stomach where the truck’s wreckage had ripped him to two. “What _are_ you…?”

 

**_Vitalum Vitalis_ **

**_Energy (esotericism)_ **

_The ability to balance the scales between one life force and another. Witches can transfer their own life force to nearly dead people in order to heal them and can even resurrect the dead. Commonly seen side-effects are fainting and dizziness due to the strain. Can also be used to drain life force as well._


End file.
